


Rack

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Spock’s different.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 14
Kudos: 101





	Rack

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The ninth time they kiss is just as electric as the first. They’re in Jim’s quarters, perched on the bed, finally off duty on a peaceful, routine mapping mission where it’s unlikely either will be called away. They’ve already warmed up— _touched_ dozens of times and stolen hundreds of furtive looks—Jim knows he’s been thinking about this since the day that he met Spock, even if it was just a fleeting whim. Now that tiny spark of interest has fanned into something large, all consuming, and Jim just _knows_ that of all the little romances he’s had along the way, _this_ is the one that’ll last. 

Spock is the one that he was meant for. His hands smooth along Spock’s shoulders, one lifting to his face, cupping his warm cheek as their mouths come together. Spock’s slightly spicier than he remembers, but that might be the lunch that they shared over a game of three-dimensional chess. Spock’s tongue is a tad more hesitant than it was last time, but more forceful than it was the time before that—they’re a roller-coaster of _they really shouldn’t do this_ but _just can’t resist._ Jim tries to thread his fingers back through Spock’s silken hair, but Spock reaches up to take his hand and gently draw it away. The contact of their intertwining fingers has Jim shivering. It simmers like a mind meld, bringing them together far beyond the surface level. 

Spock parts their lips just enough to murmur, “Are you still interested in me, Captain?”

Jim could almost laugh. That should be incredibly obvious. He kisses the side of Spock’s mouth and asks, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I was raised alongside a human and am used to your kind. But I am very alien to you,” Spock reminds him, as though that’s news at all. Jim never thinks of Spock as a Vulcan. He thinks of Spock as _Spock_ , nothing more and nothing less. The differences don’t matter. But Spock lists off anyway, “My pointed ears, my green blood, my lack of antlers...”

That was the strangest one. Spock’s ears are certainly _different_. The green flush to his skin when he becomes aroused is unique but thrilling, hardly bothersome—it’s only a colour. The fact that Vulcans don’t have the decorative horns that humans do was incredibly jarring at first—an entire _missing body part_ that made Spock looks so vulnerable. But Jim has since grown used to it. He insists, “I don’t mind.” After all, he’s been with plenty of other aliens. _Most_ aliens don’t have antlers. Spock has always been his favourite. 

Spock shudders as Jim sweeps in for another deep kiss, and his other hand rises to Spock’s hair. He’s always loved how smooth and soft it is, shimmering so easily in whatever lights there are, perfectly manicured and styled to match Spock’s perfect posture. Jim runs all through it while he fills Spock with his tongue, until his fingertips graze over a little nub. 

He pauses, then slowly pulls back. He extracts his hand from Spock’s grip and feels the other side, peering up to look—he can’t see anything through the curtain of dark hair, but he can _feel_ two shallow bumps. He looks at Spock, confused.

This is one of those times where Spock’s cheeks are green. He meets Jim’s eyes and quietly explains, “Jim, I... I _do_ naturally grow short antlers. They will never be as grand as a full-blooded human, but on Vulcan...”

“Vulcans don’t have any,” Jim fills in. Spock nods.

“So I file mine down to appear more Vulcan than I am.”

Jim opens his mouth, confused. His thumbs press into the nubs, dazed—they aren’t jagged or rough at all; it doesn’t _feel_ like they’ve been violently broken, but losing one’s antlers still seems like a horrifying thought. Spock swallows and whispers, “If you wish, I will grow them out again for you.”

Jim’s chest clenches. He’s wildly flattered. He used to picture Spock with tall, elaborate antlers that would put most humans to shame, but Spock with little blunted ones would be just as tempting, just in a different way. But he accepts Spock without any too. His own taste doesn’t really matter. He asks, “Does it hurt?”

Spock shakes his head. Jim knows there are no nerve endings in human antlers, but Spock’s biology is still a mystery to him.

So long as he knows that, he answers, “It’s up to you, Spock. You’re always gorgeous to me, no matter what.”

Spock’s blush deepens. It makes Jim smile to see. He leans in to kiss it, then resumes their fervent making out, pleased that Spock’s shared something so intimate and now they’re that one step closer.


End file.
